How 'Bout You Buy a Box of Shut-the-hell Up

Sometimes I hear the strangest things in the grocery store.

There I was, minding my own business in the soup section, when I hear some girl TWO aisles over talking on her cell phone to someone, presumably her mother. After I got over my initial annoyance at her volume, she then revealed to the entire store that today the doctor had told her she was obese...by one pound.

So naturally, some of the nearby costumers gravitate over to her aisle to see just how fat she really was. And part of me wanted to go too, more so to see whomever it was who was making such a scene.

But then I realized, she WANTS the attention, that's why she's talking so loud.

Then I walked the other way. Attention whores make me sick.

Karma hates me.

No, seriously.

My roomie and I have really hit it off. Good thing, right? We were planning on staying here next year and rooming together again...until she got a letter saying that they couldn't guarantee housing to rising seniors (which she is) due to the large number of freshman they've admitted for the fall.

So, in a nutshell, our plans are completely screwed up. The one chance we still have of living together is if I somehow get lucky enough to get a lease in Commons or the Courtyards and pull her in. Rent isn't terrible, but it's not exactly inexpensive and though my parents have offered to pay for it (since it's basically comparable to campus room and board), I still feel bad about it.

But I'm hoping things will work out.

I will keep everyone posted.

A little light-heartedness...

After almost two full years of college, I've determined that there are four types of English majors in this world:

1) Hippies: Usually boys, these are the dirty kids in the class who wear flannel and flipflops come hell or high water. They have a no holds-barred attitude when it comes to discussing things in class, but all they ever say is "Fight the man! Conventionality is lame!" They're probably the most appreciative of linguistic nuances, but only insofar as those elements support their own warped hippie theories on life and society.

2) Neurotics: Present in any class, those of the English variety seemed to be particularly concerned with figuring out EXACTLY what they need to put in their papers to get an A. They'd rather write according to the professor's precise wishes rather than go out on a limb and do something creative and fresh. They scramble to grasp literal messages and are so consumed with success that they don't really push past the text in any way.

3) Talkers: No explanation necessary. I'm afraid if I explain them further, I might lose meaning in the midst of a words whirlwind. What was I trying to say anyway? *hopes someone catches my sarcasm*

4) The Shadows: I tend to put myself into this category. We don't speak up too much, but we're known for incredible flashes of brilliance when we feel compelled to talk (but I'm not biased...!). We tend to surprise professors with good, insightful papers because we hide behind our notebooks and pens in class...but no one really takes us seriously. We blend in until the right moment when we burst out of our shells like lightning and deliver the analytical blow that stuns our peers.

So I'm a little cocky... ;)

But in all reality, I'm working on bringing myself to a level thats somewhere between type 3 and 4. I feel more comfortable speaking up, but a lot of times it's just easier not to say anything at all.

Seems to be the same way out in the real world too, eh?

Get off your fucking pedestal. You might think you're better than everyone else, but I beg to differ.

I will have no problem kicking that high horse right out from under you.

Comfort.

Sitting.

Reading.

Drink. Constant Comment.

Watching the snow fall outside my window.

Why can't every day just be like this??

I'm lucky.

So are you. We all are.

Let's remember that. No matter how hard it gets.

V-day.

I seem to say the same thing to myself whenever Valentine's Day rolls around.

The hardest part of being in love is being around people who aren't.

I wish that people could just be happy for those of us who have found someone. I don't run around touting my "in a committed relationship" status, but I'd love to get some support.

Instead, I find myself surrounded by the "bitter singles."

You know the type. They'll go out with their other single girlfriends for tonight, saying "Fuck love, who needs it?" while secretly harboring their own desire to have someone that would have given them roses and chocolates today.

Valentine's Day is over-commercialized and probably more than a little stupid but your own unhappiness and frustration is not a reason to attack me and my relationship.

Do I not have a right to be happy today? Leave your bullshit to yourselves for 24 hours please. I'd like to enjoy this a bit.

Human Fault

When it comes down to it...we're really all just a bunch of hypocrites.

And maybe your close friends are the ones you can best share that with.

Dear Haze,

Stop being such an over-sensitive idiot.


....

I really should not be left by myself-the alone time makes me think too much.

I like stupid nights, the kind where you laugh and say non-PC things and hang out with someone you missed. Yes, good times.

Kept my mind off certain other things.

(stolen from my cousin's profile)--
I won't be afraid,
I'll be alright if you help me,
I know you're looking down from heaven.
And I won't let you down,
I'll be everything you taught me,
and all that I know as I'll wait,
patiently to see you in heaven.

I miss you Pop-pop.




I'm starting to get more comfortable with school and with most of my roommates. The girl in the room adjoining mine is straight-up awesome. Sometimes I feel like she's the only one who has made much of an effort. But that's okay...I'd rather have one good friend here than three crappy ones.

I sound like a sixth grader when I blog sometimes. Gotta change that. ...Add that to the list: practice writing more. Nowadays I only do it for a grade, or when I'm avoiding doing something that could be a lot more productive. I miss writing on emotion, jotting something down in my journal as soon as I feel it and get inspired.

I guess maybe my life hasn't had many "extraordinary" epiphanies lately that I could write about. I can't help but wonder if that's a product of me growing up. Are there just fewer major life lessons to learn when you get older? Or am I not actively seeking out situations where I could learn something new...?

Maybe I'm focusing too much on writing about my own life. Some sort of fiction could be a new challenge. I like putting myself in other people's shoes, so taking on a new writing persona could be fun.

Things to think about...